


it's part of me, apart from me

by illusemywords



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Domestic Fluff, Living Together, Moving In Together, Multi, Polyamory, it's just fluff y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illusemywords/pseuds/illusemywords
Summary: Five times Sasha, Zolf, and Oscar didn't talk about their relationship and one time they did.
Relationships: Sasha Racket/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25
Collections: When In Rome Secret Santa 2020





	it's part of me, apart from me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PlantPalFynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlantPalFynn/gifts).



> Secret Santa fic number 2 for the lovely lovely Fynn! 
> 
> Title from Holocene by Bon Iver

**One**

“How was work?” Wilde asks from the couch as Zolf unlocks the door.

“Gods,” Zolf says. “You’re still here? Didn’t you have something – a meeting?”

Wilde nods. “I did. I had the meeting. Then I came back here.”

Zolf frowns. “How did you get back in? I don’t recall giving you a key?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but it does anyway.

“Sasha let me in,” Wilde says with a shrug.

“Sasha’s here? How did she get in?” Wilde gives him a look, and yeah, that’s fair. Sasha could get in anywhere.

“She’s in the shower,” Wilde says, and yeah, when he mentions it, Zolf can hear the shower running.

Zolf rolls his eyes. “I know you both have your own flats; I don’t know why you insist on infiltrating mine every day.”

“Because we love you,” Wilde says. “And because you love us.”

Zolf gets a better hold of his bag of food, walking through his living room and into the small kitchen. “If you really loved me, you’d help me put away the groceries,” he said.

Wilde snorts, but Zolf hears him get up from the couch. Moments later he appears in the kitchen doorway.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

“I wasn’t aware I’d invited you to stay.”

Wilde leans in and kisses Zolf’s cheek quickly, before taking the bag of groceries from his hands. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to starve, darling.”

“You could learn to cook for yourself,” Zolf says. He means it to be serious, but it comes out fond. “You know, like an adult.”

Wilde puts one hand to his heart, mock offended. “Ouch,” he says. “You wound me.”

Zolf rolls his eyes. “Well, if you’re going to stay you might as well do something useful. You can start chopping the onions.”

At that moment, Sasha emerges, one towel wrapped around her body and another on top of her head.

“You,” Zolf says, pointing at her with the kitchen knife he’s currently using to dice chicken. “Did you break into my apartment again?”

Sasha grins. “What makes you say that?”

“You weren’t here when I left this morning, and now you are. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give either of you a key.”

Sasha shrugs. “What can I say. You should get a better lock, mate. Also, your water pressure is so much better than mine.”

Zolf rolls his eyes. “You know, people normally ask if they want to use someone’s shower.”

“Oh, but we’re not normal people, love,” Wilde says innocently.

Zolf ignores the way that makes his heart skip a beat at that.

**Two**

Later that night, after the food is gone and the dishes are done, they collapse together onto the couch. As much as Zolf loves complaining about Sasha and Oscar coming over all the time, he really does appreciate their company.

It’s kind of nice to be able to come home to someone after a long shift at the hospital.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes briefly, just resting them for a moment or two.

“Come on, you two,” Oscar says suddenly. Zolf hadn’t realised how close he’d been to falling asleep. “Let’s get you to bed. You know you can’t sleep with your leg on, Zolf.”

With some difficulty, Zolf opens his eyes. He’s leaning heavily against Wilde’s side. Sasha is curled up on the other side of him, equally drowsy.

They get ready for bed quickly, silently. Zolf doesn’t comment on the fact that they’re staying over again, and neither Wilde nor Sasha comment on his lack of comment.

They haven’t talked about what exactly this is. He’s not sure they need to. What they have just works for them.

They crawl into bed together. Wilde is in the middle, always the centre of attention, with Zolf and Sasha on either side. They each have their reasons for wanting to sleep on the edge of the bed, and Wilde is more than happy to be surrounded by them.

It feels like it should be difficult. Like this shouldn’t work as well as it does, but somehow it just does.

**Three**

The next morning, Sasha wakes up feeling more relaxed than she can ever remember feeling.

She never thought she’d get to a point where she’d be comfortable enough to do something like this. Not only falling asleep with people she cares about but feeling comfortable enough to stay. Even now, she’s the first one awake, and she doesn’t feel the familiar need to immediately leave, to get out and disappear.

Instead, she silently extracts herself from Oscar’s arms, taking care not to wake him or Zolf.

She pauses in the doorway, looking back to see Oscar moving sleepily over, rolling into Zolf’s embrace.

She makes her way into the kitchen, idly turning the coffee machine on as she goes. Grabbing ingredients out of the cupboard, she starts making breakfast. She’s not as skilled in the kitchen as Zolf is, but unlike Oscar, she can at least feed herself. And her… Friends doesn’t feel like the right word for the two people she spends most of her nights and a not insignificant amount of her days with.

As she melts some butter in a pan, her thoughts wander towards this weird thing between them. They’ve never talked properly talked about it. She doesn’t even know if she needs them to. It would just be nice to have a name for this unnamed thing she is feeling.

Maybe she’ll ask, she thinks, as she pours the eggs into the pan, stirring steadily.

By the time Oscar and Zolf wake up, she has scrambled eggs and toast ready for them, along with freshly made coffee.

Yes, she will ask. But not now. In this moment she doesn’t need a name for it. It’s enough to just be together.

**Four**

These days, Zolf sees Sasha and Wilde all over his shopping lists.

He goes to the store after his shift. He doesn’t go every day, but it’s a convenient time. He’s already out, and the store is on his way home from the hospital.

He doesn’t know when he’d started planning his grocery trips around Sasha and Wilde’s needs, but as he puts a pack of frozen eel pies in his basket, he wonders about it. At this point, Sasha and Wilde are so entangled in his life, it feels like second nature to think of them when he does his grocery shopping.

Planning for their favourite meals, making sure there’s creamer in the fridge for Sasha to put in her coffee in the morning, buying packs of chocolate covered espresso beans for Wilde even though he doesn’t like them himself.

It all just kind of snuck up on him, somehow.

But he likes it. He likes having someone to come home to, someone to cook for. He likes not being stuck with three days’ worth of leftovers every time he cooks something more than a bowl of pasta for dinner.

He likes having someone to share his bed with. He hadn’t realised just how big his flat is for one person until he spent a night alone after weeks of nearly constantly cohabitating with Sasha and Wilde. His bed felt enormous that night, and while he never said anything about it, he’s certain both Sasha and Wilde were extra close to him the next evening. 

It feels domestic, Zolf realises as he’s checking out. He likes that.

**Five**

When Oscar emerges from the shower, he notices that Zolf has already come home from his shift and is puttering around the kitchen. Sasha is in the living room, and when Oscar emerges from the bathroom, he notices two keys sitting on the living room table. Sasha is staring at them.

She looks up when he enters, and silently slides one of the keys across the table towards him.

“Did he –“ Oscar lets the question hang, unfinished, in the air between them. Sasha nods.

He sits down next to her on the couch, carefully picking up one of the keys Zolf had made for them.

When Zolf emerges with dinner, Sasha’s key is gone from the table, and Oscar quickly shoves his own into his pocket.

If Zolf blushes a bit as he puts the food down on the table where the two keys had been, and if the next day, Sasha doesn’t pick the lock, and Oscar has a new key on his keychain, well, they don’t talk about it.

**\+ one**

In the end, Sasha is the one who asks.

“So, like,” Sasha says late one night. “What is this?”

They’re in bed together, Wilde in the middle and Sasha and Zolf on either side.

“This is a bed, Sasha dearest,” Oscar mumbles sleepily into Sasha’s shoulder. He yelps when Sasha smacks his arm, lifting his head to look at her. It’s too dark to really make out her features, but he can tell she’s looking between him and Zolf.

“I meant, you know, us. The three of us. What is this _thing_ we’re doing?”

Oscar looks back at Zolf, finds him staring up at the two of them, contemplating. “I haven’t really thought about it. I guess we’re dating?”

Sasha seems to relax a bit at that. “What, all of us?” she asks, and it would sound like a joke, if Oscar couldn’t hear the insecurity in her voice.

“Yeah,” he says. “Is that okay?”

“We don’t have to call it that if you’re not comfortable with it,” Zolf says. “We don’t have to call it anything. It’s no one else’s business what our relationship looks like.”

“No, no,” Sasha says. “Dating is fine. Dating is good. I just wasn’t sure if that’s what you guys were thinking too. But uh, yeah, that’s, good to know.” She sinks back down onto the bed.

“I’m glad we had this talk,” Oscar says sleepily, already sinking back into Zolf’s arms. Once Sasha is settled, he moves his head so it’s resting on her shoulder, wrapping one arm securely around her waist.

As they drift off together, Oscar thinks, there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be than here, surrounded by his favourite people. 


End file.
